After The Storm
by Olissiere
Summary: Battles may be won but wars are always lost. After Grima's defeat the task of picking up the pieces falls on the shoulders of the newly exalted Chrom and those closest to him.


AN: Hello fellow readers and writers! For a long time I've wanted to try my hand at writing fanfiction (or fiction in general for that matter). Until recently it's always been something that I've put off. Please note that I won't be writing it all out in advance so I would love to hear your thoughts on how I can improve my writing! With that said I hope you enjoy the story!

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 **Prelude -** **Endgame**

The sound of steel on steel had always been pleasing to his ears. Each metallic clink revived his spirits and encouraged him to press onward. Though the prince took no satisfaction from the killing he had always enjoyed a challenge. A sword in his hand was a tool with which he could prove his mettle and sparring blows with many a worthy foe had given him plenty of combat experience.

Yet on this particularly bleak evening clangs of metal or worthy foes were the last things he sought. Amidst the battlefield rang out a choir of blades but their steel symphony was not what pushed him forward. It was the sound of his fellow shepherds; his allies, family, and friends. Hearing their struggled grunts, back and forth banter and even battle cries encouraged him to press on. They were the true source of his strength and together they shared a powerful connection.

 _No amount of training could have prepared any of us for this day. If the world is to be saved today it will be because of our kinship, these bonds we share. They have all stuck by my side. Even now they do not falter. They came in knowing how high the risk is and still do not hesitate. I suppose each of us has had to make peace with that harsh reality._

PANG. Chrom blocked a clumsy swing from a sword wielding grimleal. He returned with a quick slash of his own cutting the swordsman across the chest. Chrom's swordplay was the epitome of the Ylissean style. Moving with rhythm and dexterity he darted in and out, landing quick blows before moving back to avoid a counter. Despite his precise footwork the grimleal outnumbered the Shepherds four to one and a single error could spell death. CLINK. Chrom held out for one more block before moving back to dodge an incoming lance. Occupied with the two grimleal in his front he had little time to react to a third enemy who charged forward to stab his exposed flank.

"Time to tip the scales!" proclaimed a familiar voice whose owner subsequently sent bolts of lightning raining down on the three grimleal enclosed around Chrom.

They had known each other for a little over three years yet in that time the pair had forged a friendship which felt timeless. From the beginning there was something unique about Robin. Chrom, who had found the man a helpless amnesiac, could never imagine the events which would follow that fated day. _Without Robin half of us or more might have perished in the lead up to this day. He has steered us clear of potential hardships with his tactics but I fear this time is different. They greatly outnumber us and no matter how many we slay they continue to appear in thin air. Grima must die and by my hand._

"Robin!" Chrom laughed as he turned to see his friend, "impeccable timing as always."

"Of course… I wouldn't let you enjoy all the glory. But we must press on" Robin replied in haste. Chrom returned a nod and the duo continued the march towards the Fell Dragon.

Falchion moved in full force towards its target. Mid-swing the legendary blade collided with a rounded wooden shield. CLUNK. Chrom had already predicted and prepared for this outcome. A swift kick to the shin left his rival combatant staggered. While the swordsman was still reeling Chrom sprang forth slashing his foe across the abdomen. The first swing failed to penetrate the leather armor however on the backswing the sword met skin in a harsh embrace. Out of desperation the swordsman's own swings became panicked and sloppy.

As he finished the man Chrom thought he saw a glimpse of fear in the grimleal's otherwise lifeless eyes. Up until now it hadn't really occurred to him that these were real people they were fighting. The notion was more frightening then the whole of Grima's army combined. The prince brushed the thought aside instead focusing on the fight at hand. _I must not hesitate now. In the end they are obstacles to be removed._

Over the battlefield was an impending sense of destruction. A dark and strange feeling lingering above like a weight threatening to crush all in its path. As time passed the air was bathed in the sickening scent of battle. The smell of sweat and blood and death was something you never really got used to. It was enough to turn even the strongest of stomachs.

If he were not so caught up in the adrenaline of it all Chrom would have been proud. Despite the unfavorable odds the shepherds held their ground. They fought in small groups of two or more. It was essential, Robin had stated, that no one should fight alone. His sentiment was echoed back by the others in an impromptu briefing held several hundred feet in the air on the back of an ancient dragon.

Thus far things had gone surprisingly well, yet that was likely to change at a moment's notice. Chrom who was well aware of this fact would steal a glance at his nearest allies whenever he had an opportunity. Yet as he and Robin progressed further into the frontlines those opportunities became less frequent.

The first division happened in an instant. Out of the corner of his eye Chrom spotted a group of fighters split in half by the fell dragon's followers. Somehow a single axe wielder had managed to wedge himself between Vaike and his mounted counterparts Sully and Stahl. With that small foothold Grima's forces were able to gain further leverage. Vaike found himself slowly being pushed away from his companions whose attempts to regroup were made futile by the numerous grimleal.

"VAIKE! Gods no… He's fallen." Chrom wanted to look away or better yet to run and help. In the end Chrom was prevented from doing the latter by Robin's firm grasp around his arm. An arrow had pierced Vaike's leg and brought the warrior to his knees. On the ground Teach was helpless to dodge an incoming torrent of fire magic. In the end only a charred corpse was left in its wake.

"DAMN THEM!" Chrom shouted as he pulled his arm from Robin who was already releasing his grip. "And damn you for that."

"I'm sorry… but you never would have made it in time. You would have been overwhelmed as quickly as Vaike." The white haired tactician spoke bluntly avoiding his friend's eyes. When he did look he saw the pain so clearly displayed and attempted to search for the right words. "Looking will only make the pain worst," was all Robin could muster.

Chrom's breath was heavy as he took his anger out on the closest enemy. He fought in silent frustration for a time before replying. "You're right. Of course you're right."

"Believe me," said Robin "I wanted to help him just as much as you. Nevertheless I couldn't allow you to enter such peril."

"Heh. You sound like Frederick. I don't doubt your words though. You've always been cool-headed, a trait which I for one am ever grateful for. The gods know how many times you've saved me from my own hot-headed resolve."

"True enough but it's that resolve which inspires us all to loyalty. It gives us courage, an unshakable confidence even now." Robin paused to read the words required to cast a simple spell. "We will have vengeance for Vaike. Vengeance for all of the… AGH"

Chrom glimpsed away from the warrior he was fighting to see that his tactician was in danger. Robin had taken a hit to the chest from a javelin. The projectile had done little to pierce the steel plate hidden beneath his cloak however the impact left him staggered and open to attacker's advances. Chrom would not let them have such a chance and so he sprinted to his allies' aid.

Cold steel was inches away from Robin's neck when it was intercepted by another sword. Robin ducked out of danger as its wielder went to work on the enemy.

Chrom's mouth was agape as he watched this scene unfold. His daughter had just leapt from the back of Sumia's pegasus in order to save Robin. _She moves with such a grace that it looks effortless. In truth she has far more skill than any one person has right too._ In the end he was left feeling a strange mix of pride and awe. His thoughts were broken by the voice of Robin.

"And you think I have good timing?" The white haired tactician was smiling and despite their situation Chrom couldn't help but smile back.


End file.
